


No Federation Guidelines Apply

by celestialskiff



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Alien genitalia, Body Image, Cultural Differences, Ferengi, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Kissing, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Coital Cuddling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-13
Updated: 2016-09-13
Packaged: 2018-08-14 21:13:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8029141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celestialskiff/pseuds/celestialskiff
Summary: Jake's fingers were soft, uncertain, and did not find the most sensitive spots. Nog was glad. He could barely cope with the intensity of his feelings as it was. Friends to lovers. For the Star Trek Rarepair Gre'Thnor





	No Federation Guidelines Apply

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd, mistakes are my own. A shout-out to my cat, Pickle, for deleting a big chunk of the original draft. Thanks, buddy. And a genuine big thanks to SweetPollyOliver for all their encouragement and the eye-opening chats about Ferengi culture.

Nog was awake as soon as the door slid open. The bed dipped next to his knee. He knew it was Jake, but he didn't say anything. 

He heard Jake's hands brushing over his short hair, and the movement of cloth. He listened to Jake's breath, and the sound of his pulse: loud and human and strong. He measured the pulse and knew it was too fast. His own heart was thumping, the blood rushing through his veins so quickly he thought he would be dizzy if he stood up. 

“Nog?” Jake said, very softly. 

“Uh-huh.” 

“Am I disturbing you?” 

“I'm asleep,” Nog said. 

“OK.” Jake didn't get up. Nog heard his long fingers twisting together. “It's just… About earlier...” 

“I don't want to talk about it.” The words were out of Nog's mouth before he had time to consider them. 

“Um, I...” Jake sighed. “I wanted to say. It doesn't have to change everything, does it?” 

Nog couldn't stop thinking about it: how he'd been tired, kicking his shoes off as soon as he got in the door; Jake sitting indolently on their sofa, looking at a padd. Jake had seemed so Federation in that moment: so unconcerned with what anyone thought of him, so sure that he would never want for anything he didn't even think about it. Nog wondered what it was like to feel like that, to be that calm: and he might have felt angry, but Jake smiled up at him, his soft, uncomplicated smile, and he said something that made Nog laugh. 

That was not what had happened; that had come later, when they were playing cards, and Jake had reached for him, perhaps to cuff him affectionately on the shoulder, and Nog had taken his hand, human-style, and their foreheads had pressed together for a moment, Jake's sweet breath in Nog's face. But Nog kept returning to when he'd come home and Jake had smiled, and he had suddenly been charged with desire: to touch Jake's ears, to feel his chest expand and contract, to lick the soles of his feet. 

“We don't have to talk about it,” Nog said now. “Forget it, Jake.” 

Jake lay down beside him on the bed. Nog had to shift over or be squashed by Jake's ridiculous limbs. “I don't want to sleep alone,” Jake said. 

He had never said that before: Nog had always been the one to make that request. As he'd shared beds with other Ferengi in the warm dark, he'd wanted to share one with his closest friend. That comfort would not have been denied him by another Ferengi, and Jake did not deny him either. It was only much later, at the Academy, that Nog had learnt that Jake's easy acceptance was not usual among human males. 

Now Nog was painfully aware of Jake's weight next to him, his heaviness. Nog was trapped under the blanket; Jake lay on top of it. Nog could hear Jake's pulse, loud and fast, and Nog wondered if Jake, too, was aroused. Because Nog's own arousal grew heavy in his groin: he felt the ridges there growing plump, and the wetness cupped between them. This was nothing like sharing his bed with Jake in easy camaraderie, as they had done long before. 

“Jake...” Nog began. He'd never been unable to finish speaking to Jake before. He'd never felt that he couldn't be honest with Jake, or tell him to leave if he wanted to be alone. But Nog only thought that Jake _should_ leave, he didn't _want_ him to leave. “You can stay.” 

In the quiet that followed, Nog heard Jake's pulse beginning to slow. His own seemed to be as fast as ever. Then Jake's rolled onto his side, facing Nog. His hand moved towards Nog, faltered, and then, uncertainly, Jake touched Nog's forehead and along one of his ears. 

Nog's breath caught. 

“Should I stop?” Jake said. 

“No.” 

Jake's fingers were soft, uncertain, and did not find the most sensitive spots. Nog was glad. He could barely cope with the intensity of his feelings as it was. Nog turned his face slightly towards Jake's, and the rhythm of the touches flowed through his body. He felt both soothed and hopelessly aroused, and lay still, his body pulsing, as Jake touched him and touched him. At last, Jake's hand stilled, his breathing grew more even. 

Nog lay next to him, burning, sleepless. 

*

The bar was busy. Quark looked at him in a pointed manner as if he expected Nog to get behind the counter and start cleaning glasses. Nog merely nodded at his uncle. Jake was sipping ale at a table by himself; Nog ordered root beer. Jake had only recently started drinking ale, and Nog couldn't understand it. He was sure Jake preferred root beer too. 

An ensign greeted him as he made for Jake's table and they had a brief conversation about duty-rosters; Lieutenant Ezri Dax nodded to him, looking small and slightly out-of-place; and his father smiled and waved from where he was chatting to a group of Bajorans. Weariness spread over Nog. Sometimes, the station felt impossibly small. He couldn't sit with Jake without seeing people he knew; he couldn't go into a holo-deck with him without someone asking to tag along. They could only be alone in their quarters, and suddenly their quarters felt small and treacherous. 

“I'm working on a story about Bolian culinary influence on Federation planets,” Jake said, as a greeting. 

“That sounds terrible.” 

“It is. But I was commissioned.” 

“How much are they paying you?” Nog asked, as was his habit. 

“It's for a very prestigious publication.” 

“They can probably afford a lot of latinum then.” 

Jake rolled his eyes. “You know that isn't why I do this.” 

“Imagine if you made them pay you. You could take out a lot of Dabo girls with that sort of cash.” 

Jake pushed his padd away. “I've never had any trouble picking up Dabo girls.” 

Nog remembered Jake's brief relationship with Mardah uncomfortably. He had been jealous in a way he couldn't articulate and had spent a lot of time imagining the two lithe bodies together, the touch of mouth on skin. He'd looked at his own body and seen it, more than ever, as something wanting, as something strange and lumpy in comparison with the human ideal. 

“That was when you were young,” Nog said. “What about now, when you're old and you're going to lose your hair?” 

Jake rubbed his head nervously. “I'm not going to lose my hair.” 

“Have you seen the Captain recently?”

“Dad looks very dashing,” Jake said. 

“And bald.” 

“Well, so are you,” Jake said. His warm fingers suddenly brushed the skin behind Nog's eyebrow ridges, and Nog felt like he'd been seared. “And it's a good look on you.” 

“Jake.” Nog had meant to voice an admonishment, but it came out breathy and a little anxious. 

Jake raised his eyebrows. “Want to play darts?” 

Darts helped. They hadn't talked about anything, hadn't talked about the previous night, and it lay between them, raw and impossible. Jake, though taller and more familiar with games of co-ordination, never seemed to do well at darts. He moved too quickly, was too eager to show off. Nog found the orderly throwing calming, and stood in something like a trance, throwing dart after dart close to, if not in, the bullseye. 

“Jake! How can you let Nog beat you?” It was the Chief, his hand descending on Nog's shoulder in a comradely manner. 

“He's psyching me out,” Jake said. 

Nog lost his concentration, the noise of the bar suddenly rushing into his ears, and the Chief's hand grasping him too tightly. He stepped forward to throw, and the dart went wide, tinging off the wall. 

“Sorry, Nog, I threw you off,” the Chief said. “Just as well, Julian and I are going to play.” 

“You still won,” Jake said. He was grinning, so easy, so uncaring. Sometimes nothing seemed to faze him, and Nog wanted to shake him. Then Nog saw his fingers lacing together uneasily, the way he glanced at Chief O'Brien and then at Nog, and Nog realised Jake was on edge too. 

“Busy, tonight,” the Chief said, looking around. “Louder than Yoshi, and he's teething.” 

“Does Keiko need me to come over? I could try playing that Mozart for babies track again,” Jake suggested. 

“Just got him to sleep. You lads go have fun.” Chief O'Brien gestured around the bar. He clearly wanted to get rid of them. 

“It is kind of loud in here,” Jake said to Nog as they walked towards the bar. 

It was too loud, and Nog suddenly felt exposed, as though everyone could see his uncertainty, the blood pulsing beneath his skin. “Let's go,” he said. 

Jake sat on the couch in their quarters, tucking his long legs under him. He looked at his padd, then looked back up at Nog. “We should...” 

Nog shook his head. He sat down, heavily, next to Jake. “I don't… Humans have too many words.” 

Jake smiled. “What would a Ferengi do?” 

Nog shrugged. Nothing. Not talk about it. Let it grow heavy between them until they started to hate each other. Or have sex with Jake and then not talk about it. But the beautiful, terrible _humanness_ of Jake weighed on him. There weren't any ground rules. Nog didn't know anything about human and Ferengi relationships. He knew about humans because they were in every holo-novel, every romantic story, touching hands, kissing smooth skin, talking about love. He didn't know anything about himself, and he certainly didn't know about himself _and Jake._

“Humans kiss each other,” Nog said. 

“Yeah. Sometimes.” 

“Kiss me, then.” 

Jake looked at him, and Nog suddenly felt a rush of cold fear. The top of his stomach seemed to melt. He was afraid that he'd be too disgusting to kiss, with his sharp teeth, his narrow lips, his hairless skin, his tender ears. Jake hadn't even seen him with his clothes off. It would be too much, Jake wouldn't want to kiss him, would tell him, _No, that's not what I want._

Jake put his hand on Nog's cheek. His thumb ran under Nog's eye, the palm of his hand brushed Nog's cheek-bone. He kissed Nog's nose, and then his lips, very gently. It was much dryer than Nog had expected, and warm, and slightly prickly. It did not make Nog shiver like a finger on his ear. He leant into Jake's touch, and Jake made a soft, gasping sound, an exhale of warm breath, and then his mouth was firmer, his impossibly warm hand cupping the back of Nog's head. 

Nog copied Jake's movements, followed the shape of his mouth. He felt a tongue against his lips: the sudden, wet heat was more what he had expected. He let his lips open. This was strange to him, but it was clearly doing something for Jake: he felt Jake's rasped breath, heard Jake's raised pulse. The sounds ran down his spine, pooled in his groin. He felt his ridges grow hot again, begin to ache. He imagined Jake's hand there, pulling Jake's hand against tender, wet skin. Or Jake's mouth, Jake's tongue. 

He pulled back, his mouth wet, saliva on his lips. Dizzy. Jake's hand slid down the back of his head, onto his neck. Stroked his skin. Nog felt himself shiver. “Oh,” he said, “oh,” and then he tipped forward into Jake's arms, resting his head on Jake's shoulder. Jake's hands stroked down his back, a steady rhythm. Their breath slowed. 

“So that's what you like,” Nog said eventually. “That's what you humans like.” 

Jake's throat moved as he laughed. “That's one of the things we like.”

“Sometimes you know what you're talking about.” 

*

The third night, Jake said, “I've wanted this for a while now, you know.” 

Nog didn't think Jake lied. It was one of the infuriating things about him: a hopeless, optimistic honesty. It was part of his belief that the universe was basically good. Even though the Borg had killed his mother, he still had that Federation optimism. A lot of people would have to die before the Federation would really be able to see itself. So Nog believed what he said, even though his whole body told him it must not be true. As much as he wanted Jake, Jake couldn't want him the same way. 

“Why?” Nog said, at last. They were sitting on the couch again, faint music playing. 

“Because...” Jake leant closer, liquid eyes holding Nog's. “Because you go along with whatever hare-brained schemed I come up with, because you always tell me off, because you make me laugh...” 

“Lieutenant Dax makes you laugh too,” Nog said. 

“I don't want to kiss her. I want to kiss you. I want to...” A long pause, then Jake said, “I want to know how your skin feels under my tongue.” 

Nog shivered. He couldn't help it: he suddenly couldn't stop imagining Jake's mouth on his stomach. “Do you even know about Ferengi anatomy?” he said. 

“I read a section from a textbook. It's hard to find anything.” 

Nog snorted. “We don't feature in _Vulcan Love Slave _, that's for sure.”__

__“To be fair, that's mostly about white Vulcans.” Jake put his hand on Nog's shoulder. “I can learn about you, though. Someone once told me that all genitals are confusing except for your own.”_ _

__“To be honest, I find my own confusing.”_ _

__Jake snorted. “Me too, sometimes.”_ _

__“Yours are hanging on the outside, all dry and vulnerable,” Nog said. “That must be weird.”_ _

__Jake waggled his eyebrows. “They're not that dry,” he said. Nog wasn't sure if that was innuendo, but he smiled. Jake put his hand on Nog's, rubbed the skin a little. It was nice and impossibly awkward at the same time._ _

__“Should we have sex, then?” Nog said, after a long time, when it seemed as if Jake was just going to sit there. Jake nodded, so eagerly and fast that Nog had no time to worry that the question might be unwanted._ _

__By mutual consent, they went into Jake's bedroom. It seemed like he'd made some effort to tidy up: clothes were shoved under the bed, and the books and padds had been stacked into one corner. “Do you want me to take my clothes off?” Nog asked._ _

__“Well, it's usually considered more … romantic for me to undress you.”_ _

__Nog frowned. “That seems really inefficient. My jumpsuit is hard to remove, especially if you're not used to it.”_ _

__“Well.” Jake sat on the edge of the bed. “How about we just leave our underwear on?”_ _

__As Nog was unzipping his suit, Jake said, “Are you sure this is OK?”_ _

__“Yeah.” Nog stopped, one leg halfway out. “I mean. Are you?”_ _

__“I'm sure,” Jake said. “I don't want you to feel like I'm pressuring you. I know you haven't...”_ _

__“I don't know if anyone's done this exact thing before.”_ _

__Jake snorted. “True.”_ _

__Nog looked up at him. He was wearing grey boxer shorts, and nothing else. Nog could see miles of brown leg and arm. Chest flecked with black hair. Hair on his stomach too, his thighs. Humans were so hairy: sometimes Nog forgot. Nog wriggled the rest of the way out of the jumpsuit. He took off his shirt too. Ferengi didn't usually wear human-style underwear, but Nog found it easier to wear the Starfleet uniform if he did. So he was wearing a white pair of boxers, covering his genital ridges, even now when they were wet and hot._ _

__Jake and Nog stared at each other over the abyss of the small bedroom. Nog wanted to wrap his arms around himself, go out the door, vanish. Jake coughed. “Computer, dim the lights to 60%.”_ _

__That was better: the room slightly shadowy, the edges softened. “Come here,” Jake said._ _

__They sat on the bed. Nog wanted to go back out, to start over. This felt so strange. It didn't feel like them. But he didn't want to stop it. Maybe nothing ever progressed like a fantasy in his head. “Let's just lie down,” Nog suggested._ _

__They lay side by side, Jake warm weight against him. Jake called up some music, something Bajoran and a bit too high-pitched for Nog's taste. But it was better than silence. Nog realised how hard his heart had been beating, felt his pulse in his chest. Jake's hand was on Nog's chest, smooth fingers exploring his skin. They kissed again, and Nog felt a warm rush go through him, hot and expectant._ _

__“I've wanted this for a long time, too,” Nog said._ _

__“Good.” Jake pressed his forehead to Nog's. “Good.” His fingers found Nog's ear and traced it, an awkward, jerking movement. Nog took his hand and showed him the right rhythm, the right place. Then Nog's eyes rolled shut, his feet grasped at the air._ _

__Heat pooled over his groin. His breath grew harsh in his throat. “Jake...” his voice caught in his throat._ _

__“I'd love to know what you're feeling,” Jake said. “The way you look right now – I've never seen your face like that before.”_ _

__Nog couldn't find any words. He felt Jakes other hand skating down over his chest, his stomach. His hips thrust at nothing. He felt tense, tight, his groinal ridges hot and damp, his cock beginning to emerge from the wet heat inside. “Do you want…?” Nog's voice rose, but the question went nowhere._ _

__“Can I take off your boxers?”_ _

__Nog nodded, and Jake peeled the cloth away from Nog's crotch. The boxers got tangled under his ass: he had to raise his hips so that Jake could pull him free. As they did this, his breath came easier, his attention distracted from the overwhelming touches._ _

__He reached down: Jake was at crotch level. He touched the dome of Jake's skull, feeling the soft, close hair, and then ran his fingers over the curve of Jake's ear. It was so small, so close to the skull. Jake leant into the touch. For a moment, he looked breathtaking, leaning into Nog's hand, Nog's fingers pale against his skin. He blinked up at Nog, his eyes full of warmth. Nog exhaled._ _

__“Do you have any idea what to do down there?” Nog asked._ _

__Jake smiled. He ran his fingers over Nog's hip. “Do I lick these ridges?”_ _

__“When … When I masturbate I usually rub them with fingers. Rub my fingers in between them. And then when my cock emerges – I – I stroke it with my wet fingers – and then I --”_ _

__“And then you come?” Jake asked._ _

__Nog nodded._ _

__“Can I try?” Nog could feel his breath against his hip._ _

__“Please,” Nog said. They arranged themselves so Nog was at the edge of the bed, legs spread, Jake kneeling on the floor between them. Jake fingers were tentative, probing between the three engorged ridges, rubbing the slick fluid. He felt Jake's mouth on his ridge, then Jake's tongue, tentative. The wet heat of it was sudden, unexpected. Nog felt his breath come in a rush; he jerked upwards._ _

__“Bad?” Jake asked, his hand gripping Nog's thigh._ _

__“No. No – just – keep going.”_ _

__“I can do that.” Jake's fingers were firm. Nog felt his skin grow hot, wet, embarrassingly wet and eager, and Jake's tongue lapped at him. Jake's breath, Jake's mouth so willing to touch. He saw Jake's head dip over his groin, his whole tongue lapping at the ridges, at the tender, wet skin._ _

__Nog heard the sounds in his own throat as if they came from someone else: a faint, desperate keen. “Oh,” he said. “Oh, oh – oh --”_ _

__Jake looked up at him from between his thighs. His face was damp with Nog's arousal, his cheeks glistening with it. Nog shivered at the sight, and felt his cock emerge, the wet, red head sliding from the hood. “It's so dark,” Jake said, surprised. He touched it with his thumb. Nog bucked in response, a cry caught in his throat: it was too much, too rough. His cock was so sensitive._ _

__“With your tongue,” Nog gasped. “Just with your tongue.”_ _

__Jake bent at once to Nog's cock, as if he had wanted nothing more than to lick him, suck him. Nog shivered in response, feeling sweat come out over his skin, his mouth somehow wet and dry at the same time. It was different, so different, from bringing himself off: Jake didn't touch the right places, didn't know the right rhythm, and yet it was more potent, more overwhelming than any time he had touched himself. He almost felt too stimulated, that this was too much._ _

__Jake's tongue wrapped around his cock, drawing it into his mouth, and the wet heat surrounded him. He felt himself moan aloud. It was so much, he was drowning in it. “Oh, damn it, Jake, Jake, Jake –”_ _

__The wet heat grew in his groin, seemed to pool between his hips, until it was too much, it could only spill over. His cock quivered._ _

__He reached down, his fingers stumbling over Jake's head; Jake pulled away, and Nog felt the station's air against his skin, and Jake's wet breath huffing out, and then his cock opened, and he could only moan and rock above Jake's head, his heart racing, his lungs empty._ _

__Jake lay with him, his face wet and sticky, pressed against Nog's shoulder, his arm over Nog's heaving chest. Nog could smell him: salt and sweet at the same time, so human. And he could smell his own fluid on Jake's face. Nog couldn't move, lay there, and eventually flexed his fingers, rubbing them over Jake's head, the back of his neck. Jake nuzzled closer. The dampness had dried across Jake's cheeks and under his lip._ _

__Jake smiled at him, soft. “So. Was that OK?”_ _

__Nog snorted a laugh. “Yeah, Jake. It was more than OK.”_ _

__Jake's smile widened. “How much more?”_ _

__“What do humans say? You blew my mind, OK?”_ _

__“OK.” Jake threw his leg over Nog's hips, nuzzling into his side. “You looked so hot, do you know that? The sounds you made, and the taste of you in my mouth...”_ _

__Nog thought he probably looked weird and wrinkly and sounded like a targ in heat, but he wasn't going to say that. If Jake wanted to be delusional that was fine by him. He put his hand on Jake's leg, tugging him closer. “So, should I see if I can figure out what human males like?”_ _

__“Don't know about human males,” Jake said. “But I think you'll work out what I like.”_ _

__Nog, looking down at Jake's long legs wrapped around his own, at the prominent bulge in Jake's boxers, was suddenly confident that he would._ _


End file.
